I rip off a plastic bag and sort through the apples, trying to find ones that aren't shriveled and rotted.
"Shit," I mutter when I miss the bag and drop the apple on the floor.
When I turn to pick it up, I see a giant hand reaching for it. I slowly look up and there he is. The Destroyer.
No freaking way. Not again. How the hell do I keep running into this guy?
"Thanks," I say, keeping my head down as he hands me the apple. I set it back on the rack.
"You're not taking it?" he asks in his deep voice.
"Um, no," I say, sorting through the apples, keeping my head lowered so he doesn't recognize me.
"You expect someone else to buy the apple you dropped on the floor?" he asks, anger in his voice.
"Fine," I snap, taking it. "I'll buy the stupid apple. Happy now?"
He stares at me, then bends down to get a better look at my face. "You've gotta be kidding me. You again?"
I lift my head and look into his stupid blue eyes. "I can shop wherever I want. You don't own the damn store."
"Never said I did." He folds his muscular arms over his wide chest. "So what? You live around here?"
"No, I purposely drove twenty miles just to come here." I look around at the sparse, dirty store. "Because the selection's so great."
He grunts. "I knew it."
"Knewwhat?"
"That you're some rich bitch. Think you're better than us."
"If I was rich I wouldn't be here."
He pauses to consider that. "But you used to be. Am I right?"
"It's none of your business," I say, going around him. "Just leave me alone."
He follows me to the dairy case. "What happened? Daddy's stock trade didn't work out in his favor and now you're slummin' it until he makes the money back?"
I grab a gallon of milk and slam the fridge case closed. "I'm not rich, and how I ended up here is none of your damn business."
He stares at me with the same intense look he gave me at my locker today that caused a strange feeling in my stomach that I'm feeling again right now.
Without saying a word, he walks off to the other side of the store.
"Um, okay," I say, rolling my eyes.
The guy is crazy. Maybe he's on something. Probably steroids. I don't know how else he could get that big.
Checking my mom's list, I see that I forgot the bread.
"Excuse me," I say to a guy who works at the store. "Where's the bread?"
"Aisle five," he says, pointing to it.
"Thanks." I walk over there, noticing I'm out of breath. My heart sped up the moment I saw Dean. He makes me so damn angry. Why was he asking me all those questions? So he could gossip about me at school? And why does he assume I'm rich?
Hurrying down the bread aisle, I'm checking my phone when I hit something. Something hard.
